Grief
by Threaded Needles
Summary: I deal with grief with the only way I know; I don't. Eventual WonderBeetle.
1. Chapter 1

_"Mommy, one day I'll be a superhero, __**just **__like Wonder Woman!"_

Sometimes I wonder if what I'm doing is wrong. Not the whole deal in particular, I mean, sure, Green Lanterns do there part and are good at it, and sometimes Superman doesn't destroy all of Metropolis when slamming Doomsday through the city, but I mean _me._

At first I was _so _convinced I was doing right, even if I had a few bumps and left behind an array of broken arms in my team. But, I had a recruit. _My _recruit. I learned to be stealthy, though ever-so-slowly.

But... hearing that Kid Flash _died_ shut something off in me. I was _Wonder_girl, I could fly and was invulnerable and could take down Lobo with my hands tied behind my back if I wanted to. And Kid Flash- _Wally_- was retired. A legend, sort of. He was a goofball, sure, but serious when he needed to be. And the fact that he died, _THE KID FLASH, _to save the rest of us was just so guilt inducing. The fact that he was going to marry Artemis and that according the Bart) they would have the cutest kids, made things even _worse._

I mean, I can stop Mongul and I can recruit, but, really, what good does it do when you don't even stop to consider.

Sometimes, I think my mom was trying to punish me. The only way for me _not _to kill someone when I punch them in the face would be if I had, like, _three_ inhibitor collars on.

And that's not even the tip of the iceberg. I feel guilty because of the things I've done, the things when I'm not a hero. When I'm with my team. Misleading Arsenal when I kissed his cheek, I _bet_ that's his new pick-up line; Using Jaime as some sort of _excuse _because he's my _recruit; _Kissing Bart on the forehead because he calls me his best frenemy.

My worst guilt though, is kissing Tim. I don't know what came over me. I didn't even like him, and the timing was so awful. Right after Kid Flash had died, almost _immediately _after hearing the news, I pressed my hands to his chest and pressed my lips to his.

They say people handle grief in a way only they can understand.

Well, I handle my grief my _not_ handling at all.

I become an irrational time bomb. I punch down and kill robots in synthesized exercises in the Watchtower, I yell at my teammates. In short, I become everything I try to hide from my friends.

I didn't even like Tim. He was full of himself, though he pretended to hide it behind a scared boy-scout ego in front Nightwing, in the field he had a puffed-up ego that wanted to make you bash your head in. He was _annoying. _Of course, because the Karma bus hits me _hard, _Tim is absolutely, positively _in love _with me.

See a pattern yet? Things are beginning to fall out of my hands, slide in between the cracks of my outstretched hands.

Of course, I completely lost control of the situation when Jaime- _my recruit- _died in battle, just short of a month of Kid Flash's death. I screamed and cried and barricaded myself in my room. My mother took it upon herself to construct the excuse that I had mono and would be home-schooled for the rest of the year.

Everything I had taken so long to cover up and pretend and hide behind with the bubbles and the excitement, the flashy smiles, and the bright outfits, the loudness, and the jumping, was crashing around me.

Zatanna, even _Dinah, _tried to console me. Tried to put back the shivering, damaged figment of a person I was to something manageable, to show that this didn't affect me, that everything would be fine, after all, if _Wondergirl _could emerge from this mess smiling and showing that everything would be okay, then the people had nothing to worry about.

* * *

_"And when I become the greatest hero- ever- I promise, Mom, to let you share the golden throne."_

"You miss him."

I turn around, biting my bottom lip as I come out of the grotto. He's wearing the black hoodie I bought for him for his birthday, and he's grinning like an idiot, "He was my recruit," I whisper.

"Sheesh, it's been a year. And you did not recruit him. You just flashed a pretty smile and Nightwing did all the talking," he reasons, adjusting his sunglasses. I want to smash the sunglasses beneath my palms. It's so stupid, I hope he walks into a door frame.

Instead of destroying his shades, I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Right, so when Stephanie dies, I'll make sure to give the same spiel."

I don't wait to hear the response, I fly over to the kitchen, and gently scoot onto the counter not covered in flour. Megan only peers curiously at me for a few seconds before going back to her recipe.

_Do you need to talk?_

For once I'm not angry for her intrusion. It's only a gentle probe, her mental voice filled with anxiety. _Yes._

_What about?_ She's rolling out the dough for sugar cookies, humming a tune while she's talking to me.

_Tim. Definitely Tim._

She stops humming, and gives me a small curious look, as if curious, but not prying. Her fingers still gently kneed the dough, but her voice is no longer vibrating the tune, and the link suddenly becomes stronger, fiercer, as if she's afraid that someone will overhear our conversation. _Talk, now._

* * *

_"Greatest day of your life, right?"  
_

* * *

_A.N. So, I know I shouldn't be starting a new story since HIGH SCHOOL approaches. Sophomore this year, and still no schedule, so I hope I'm not lost on the first day! Also, side note, MOM IS HAVING A BABY. Fourth sibling. Stopped being exciting after the second. Anyways, so, because of the sudden abrupt change in my lifestyle coming, updates will be less frequent, as in, I might get to write three hundred words a night before bed?_

_And I bet you are all wondering why I chose Cassie, right? Well, not only is Cassie one of my favorite Freshman, but her exterior is actually quite similar to how I pretend to present myself._

_Review, please. Criticism, recommendations, and praise are all welcome.  
_

_-Threaded Needles_


	2. Chapter 2

_"Mom, when do I get to meet **Dad**?"_

* * *

She sets down three paper bags filled with groceries on the dining room table, depositing her huge over-flowing black purse filled with miscellaneous needs on a chair, all the while saying: "Cass, we need to talk."

"We are talking, _Mom,"_ I say, digging through the first bag until I retrieve my treasure, blueberry yogurt. I push through the next bag, looking for whipped cream to put on it.

She rolls her eyes, clasping the button on her jacket, "Cass, I'm _worried. _Nightwing called today, he said you barely go on missions any more, and you won't speak to anyone. What about your friend? That little black haired kid?"

"Tim?" I snort. I shake the whip cream canister, squirting several inches of the foam on top of my blueberry yogurt before I attack it head on with my tongue.

"_Jaime," _she corrects, opening the last bag and pulling out a small container filled with various fruits. She opens the fork with it and pops a few pieces of cantaloupe into her mouth. My blood, if it could, turns to ice in two seconds flat, "What happened to him? Did you guys have a falling out or something?"

I collect my yogurt, making sure to grab a plastic spoon from a drawer before I head up to my room, "None of your business, _Mom."_

Once in the safety of my room, I throw my thick concoction of blueberry yogurt into the trash, face-planting into my bed. _Since when is it any of their business? Where does Nightwing get off trying to tell me what to do?_

I frown, shifting aside my blankets. _Well, time to show them all up._

Grabbing my phone from my bedside table, I dial the first number that comes to mind. _One ring. Two. _

"_Hello_?"

"Tim," I breathe.

* * *

_"Look, I'm flying!"_

* * *

_"Why in God's name are you dressed like that?"  
_

I look up from my dress watching Bart slowly turn a very red color, struggling to get his jacket on as Tim's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Slowly, I flatten my palm against the hip of the dress, and clack over to the boys, my pink heels trying their very hardest to try and trip me. Bart finally succeeds in getting his jacket on and I notice he's dressed very nicely, just as nicely as Tim and I. I notice he's even slicked back his hair- obviously a failed attempt, however.

"Well, if you must know, _Tim, _I was invited by Cissie King-Jones to be her escort to the Queen-Wayne ball this evening."

"That's great!" I exclaim, while Tim only curls his lip in disgust.

Bart nods to me thankfully, then stands up straight, trying his hardest to regain any dignity he lost to Tim, "Well, I'm off," he says, before heading through the Zeta.

_Recognized. Kid Flash. B-2-3. _

"Ready to go?" he asks, holding out his arm. At least he's being bearable.

I purse my lips together, "No, I forgot my necklace in Karen's room, I'll be there ASAP, you head along."

I wait for his initialization before I grab my silver chain with a pink rose charm. I make a stop at the Grotto as well, taking extra care at the stairs, smiling and waving to Artemis who is dressed in her long green gown, saying a short prayer- or maybe a poem- to Wally before leaving.

Once in front of Blue's hologram, with his body tilted forward, his hands on his hips- _Peter Pan- _and a long smile, I take a deep shaky breath, "So, Miss M. said I need to stop lying to myself and everyone else, and the first thing to do is be honest with others. And since you're my best friend, I get to be honest with you first," I say, feeling stupid for talking to a hologram, to someone who isn't even her, someone who is _dead, _"so I wanted to tell you that I'm going to Italy with my mother in a week, because she needs to go on a dig, you know how it is, and I'm quitting the team."

A pause. He's still smiling; still Peter Pan. I rip off the necklace, shattering several of the chain pieces. I throw at the hologram, and it fizzles out for half a second before bringing back the picture ten times more crystal clear, "I _HATE _YOU!"

* * *

Like I promised, I meet Tim at the Queen-Wayne ball. I've borrowed a new necklace from Artemis who witnessed my entire meltdown (she also, you know, reapplied all my make-up) and he hands me a white masquerade mask, adorned with swirling strokes of pink. I snap it over my eyes and part of my nose.

His covers half his face, which is eerie to look at. It cover one eye, half the nose, and half his mouth, all in a blank white color. We dance a couple of rounds before he needs to start making rounds and socializing, leaving me alone. I catch Bart a couple of times, dancing with a short girl (which is good, since he's short) wearing a dark red dress, and long blonde hair.

_Splash._

"_Ooooh, _I'm _so _sorry, I just._ Clumsy-"_

I look at the speaker, who is holding a cup half-filled with water. A gloved hand covers her mouth, and a pool of water is circling around my heels.

She slowly begins to laugh, giggling almost, "I'm _so _sorry, I was watching one of my friends dance. I-"

"It's fine," I say, cutting her off. She has fascinating eyes, colorless, rimmed with gray and flecks of green. Her dress is spring green, and her long strawberry blonde hair tumbles around her shoulders in bouncy curls.

"If you say so," she says with a sigh, "you have pretty eyes. Almost like the color of my best friends. Like an ocean."

"Thanks," I say curtly. She smiles, and runs off somewhere, obviously feeling that she has achieved her good deed for the day award.

I figure forty five minutes of a party is pretty good- especially since thirty eight of those were without Tim, so I begin to make my way towards the entrance, definitely ready to go. I'll call Tim later and apologize later for ducking out early, if he _notices._

_"May I have this dance, **chica**?" _

I turn around, slowly brushing off the hand on my shoulder to the voice behind me. A thin young man wearing all black, even his mask, is smiling.

I smile tightly, "_Sure."  
_

He leads me back out to the dance floor, where we are pressed against a bunch of other people with odd colored dresses and extravagant masks adorning their faces. He leads me, loosely, and find myself rather relaxed, despite the fact that I have no idea who this guy is. Obviously he speaks Spanish, so...

I pull away, and wrap my arms protectively around myself.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," I say stiffly, people are pressed against us, no one seems to mind that we are no longer flowing with them in the two-step dance.

He says something low and in Spanish, that I have absolutely no idea what it means, but I'm brought out of the dance floor, and we're against one of the back walls, where no one else is.

He promises to go get me some water, and tells me to wait. The second he disappears- as if on cue- a wall on the other end of the hall implodes, shattering the crowd with a million pieces of glass.

* * *

_"So you're in?"_

* * *

_A.N._

_Bleh._

_So, a number of things happened. I started rewatching Invasion, mostly because I've already seen the first season like, eight times, and the second once. AND I HAVE RESPECT FOR LA'GAAN. Like, ohmyfuckingjesus, he goes out in a bunch of firing guns to swim over and grab Blue Beetle. Aside from that, he does have some major douchebag moments._

_I have come to HATE Greg Weisman. Officially. Brandon Vietti, I love you. However, Greg Weisman you have my permission to die (BANE REFERENCE), mainly because you have two lines between Cassie and Tim spoken IN THE LAST EPISODE and then they are A COUPLE? And you have Jaime and Cass have perfect chemistry in the comics and do nothing about it? And then you have the nerve to- on Ask Greg- to say that Cassie is closest to Tim, of the boys, on the team? I want you suspended from writing this show._

_Like, I will only allow you permission to start writing this show if you make WonderBeetle canon in the third season. ARE YOU LISTENING? Like, why WONDERBIRD? Because it's canon in the comic? _

_Go die._

_-Threaded Needles_


	3. Chapter 3

_"It doesn't really feel like we won-" _

* * *

My immediate thought following the explosion is to lead as many civilians as possible out, or pursue the person who did this.

And then I remember there is more than just me here. And a couple of brave men, and one woman are helping lead people out, Bart has either changed or vibrated through his suit, and is zipping around, helping by removing glass from a few unlucky guests.

Tim has disappeared, so I run over to Zatanna and Dick- who is now acting as the detective/law enforcement he is- and check up on what they're doing. While Dick finishes up on safely getting everyone out and taping up a caution sign, he calls over to Bart and Artemis.

"Track them," Dick says, his blue eyes twinkling in mischief.

"_Crash!" _

I watch Bart speed out, with Artemis racing after him. Zatanna turns around, chanting out an incantation to revert the building back into order. Dick is testing around for any sort of magic, or sleight of the hand tricks, before looking for trace elements of explosives.

"What can I do?" I ask Zatanna as she finishes fixing the wall.

"_Tser, _Cassie," she says softly, resting her left hand on my shoulder, "Dick plans on revealing a big plan tomorrow, you will play a key part, I'm certain."

"Ok," I say, knowing better than to resist Zee. I slip off my heels, since they're killing me, and take two steps towards the exit, "wait, _Zee, _I have a question."

"Shoot," she says, now aiding Dick in discovering a charge (if you're unfamiliar with this form of device, it's a small bomb that would blow out a window and any near inhabitants).

"Did you guys ever find_ Khaji Da?_"

Zatanna and Dick share a look, a smoldering piece of hardware in the palm of his hand as his tech finished searching the charge.

"No."

* * *

_"I don't need your damn hoodie." _

* * *

"Cass? How was the dance?"

I sigh, making care to lock the door behind me, dumping my shoes in the regular shoe-discard pile barely a foot away from entrance way, "it was okay, I guess."

I step into the kitchen, where she's busy fussing over a box that won't stay taped shut, labeled _Miscellaneous. _Rummaging the rpantry for any sort of snack-like food, while Mom tries to strike up a conversation, unsuccessfully.

"When your done with your snack, can you go pack your suitcase? I already cleaned up your room."

I grumble, and munch down a couple of pretzel sticks. I swallow uncomfortably, "thanks, but you really didn't need to-"

"And I already packed your books and the extra blankets in your closet. I rehung a few of your hoodies and shirts because they fell off your hangers-"

I take the bag of pretzels down the hall with me to my room. Again, my mother is being suffocating. Not that I don't love her, but she seems to think that I need to be just as pristine and careful and uptight as her.

Though I have to admit, my room looks _nice _clean.

All of my arts and crafts supplies has been scooped up, sorted and deposited in the correct spots, my dirty clothes are residing in the hamper in the corner again, and my bed has been made. I grab my suitcase from under my bed and open it, and begin sifting through my clothes to try and find a good week's worth. A few shirts, some jeans, socks, underwear... I open my closet to grab a couple of sweatshirts, since I haven't exactly looked at Italy's forecast in... uh, _never._

I grab the first three on the rack and begin to pull them off the hangers, my favorite grey one, a slip on bright _pumpkin orange _hoodie, and a too-big blue one.

Okay, I don't remember ever buying that last one.

I remove it from the suitcase and flip out the tag, thinking maybe it'll have been encoded in some sort of special script, and it's actually a bomb from Ra's Al Ghul or someone. It looks fairly normal, aside from the fact that it's in a men size.

Did Tim ever leave his hoodie here?

I try and remember a time where Tim was actually ever at my house, and drawing a blank, try and think of a time when Bart or Jaime or Garfield was.

Eventually I just pack the hoodie, because I'm sure if I've forgot it, I probably didn't want to remember it anyway. I move on to sorting through my drawers, which are filled with pencils, pens and forgotten half notes from friends and teammates. I spend the better part of the next hour unraveling notes and re-reading what Bart or Jenna or Katie wrote, I've even got a few notes from girls that were spewing all of their hatred at me.

Halfway through sorting through it, I find a note with writing that isn't anyone else. I flip it open, and immediately look down to the signature. _Jaime._

* * *

_"..."  
_

* * *

_Ow, what...? _I slowly shift from side to side, looking around. I'm in a cleared spot in the middle of nowhere._ I thought... Where's Cassie? _

My thoughts shift, and I find myself wobbling to my feet, surprised I can stand. That plot is completely cleared, and fresh earth is dug up around it. However there are no grave markers to indicate that people were buried here. I can literally feel my breath return to normal.

**Jaime Reyes, scanning area. **

"Good, thanks," I say, and I turn on my heel. There is literally nothing. I could have sworn that there would be at least something after the place blew up. At least ash, to say the least.

**Scan reveals no heat signatures for several miles. The WonderGirl is also not present.**

That was curious. I could have sworn Cassie would have at least flown back as soon as she reached the others to get help. Maybe she hadn't gotten back yet, or maybe everyone was on missions...

A dust cloud in towards my left confirmed that Cassie had finally gotten towards help, after all, Bart was the only one who could run that fast. I was totally ready to see him, to hear him try and pronounce _Espanol._

Instead, I was met with a man with spiky red hair, and the signs of a three day old beard. He oozed familiarity, but I couldn't place it. He was several inches taller than me.

He seemed to recognize me however, and immediately gripped me in a bone-crushing hug usually only Cassie could accomplish. His gold eyes twinkled happily, and only when he talked did I finally recognize who it was.

"_Her-Man-O!"  
_

* * *

_A.N.  
_

_...And I'm sorry._

_My first time around writing this, I made the Scarab offline, but that's not how the end project was. Anyways... total bonus points if you can guess how many years into the future Jaime is. _


	4. Chapter 4

_"Imp, come help me make cinnamon buns." _

* * *

"And why exactly do you want a therapy session?"

I hug my shoulders, pressing myself farther in the chair, my knees touching my chin. The hoodie is too big, but I feel like it's the only chain left of him, and I _need _it, "I, um, wanted to talk about Jaime."

Artemis purses her lips, and moves into a more comfortable position in the bright green chair across from mine, "Cass-"

I cut her off, "I know, I know, he's dead, stop harping on it, but..." I reach back into one of the pockets and unroll the note I found from him and pass it to Artemis.

She unfurls it and reads it, frowning before passing it back, "it's a love letter."

"Yeah, _right _before me and Tim got together."

Artemis frowns, resituating, "Cassie you can't feel remorse for dating Tim just because Jaime had feelings for you that you didn't return."

"That's the problem, I did like him, I was just in so much _denial."_

"Elaborate."

I sigh, leaning back farther into the chair and wrapping the sweater around me tighter, "I don't know, like I was afraid that I let myself like him, it would ruin our friendship, and here he wrote me a letter," I say, crumpling the paper up into my fist.

Artemis sighs, resting her chin on her hand, "and how _exactly _did you just now get the letter?"

Ouch, that hurt. Saying I didn't know would be the correct answer, but since I found it in my note drawer I've probably read it before and simply dismissed it. I crawl out of the chair and move to leave, and when Artemis doesn't stop me, do so.

"Hey Cass!" Bart says, holding up a hand for a high five. He's wearing an atrocious maroon colored holiday sweater, though it looks handknitted.

I return the gesture, "nice sweater."

He blushes, and then smiles, "thanks, Cissie had Dinah help her make it, and I've heard 'bout people getting these things- obviously we dodn't get them in the future- and there not as bad as I thought they'd be. Sweet gesture really."

"You've never got a Christmas sweater before?"

He shakes his head, tugging at the collar of his gift, "we never really had a Christmas in the future either, I guess."

"_Seriously?" _I ask, exasperated.

He nods, "I mean, I had that Christmas party here at the cave last year, but I was alone last year because Grandma and Gramps had to visit family and it'd be too weird to explain me."

"Oh, well, then I'm buying you a super-special Christmas present this year! What do you want?"

He thinks a second, "they came out with this new bed-set, it has a lot of us really cool partners on it, and it looks super cool. I want it."

"_Done." _

I rummage through my pockets a minute before I find my mother's credit card. It's not like it's a huge purchase, _okay? _

_"So, _what do you want then?" Bart asks, leaning against my shoulder.

Hm... "Tell me about the future. You don't have to say names, but I want to know about my life in your future."

* * *

_"Funny... Sorta." _

* * *

I leave the department store feeling good. After I had Zeta'd back to Washington, I had made my way to one of the biggest stores which I was sure would carry Bart's bed-set.

The set in question had sheets, a blanket and a comforter. The sheets were both deep purple and had a bunch of our icons on it, a blue Nightwing insignia, red Superboy icon, my Wondergirl one, and Robin's. The blanket featured Batgirl swinging from a rooftop, with Blue Beetle flying beside her, holding Gar's hand as he carried him along. The comforter had Impulse, with his Speed tracks behind him, Bumblebee on Guardian's shoulder and Tigress standing next to Impulse. All in all, it totally looked like it was worth the fifty dollars.

After I had got that for Bart I looked for around at the displays and clothes, since I might need more for the move to Italy.

"Cass! What are you doing here?"

I turn around, a pink hoodie in my hands to see Tim, his hands stuffed in his pockets. In a bag next to him I can see the various bright colored presents, already wrapped.

"I... live here?" I answer.

"Oh, right, right. What did you get?" he asks, looking at the bedset and my feet while I continue to browse through the clothes.

I bite mt lip, and put the sweater back, "Bart's Christmas present. He never had Christmas, so..."

"Really? Well, I'll go buy him a bunch of candy or something." He says, gesturing to the Candy Cane display behind him.

"Good choice," I answer lamely. I go back to looking through the sweaters.

He pulls me in for a kiss, which I register briefly before I go back to looking for stuff, "so, Cass, I was thinking..."

"Hm?" I mumble. Weird, a Booster Gold hoodie.

He taps his hand against the rack, "maybe we should break-up, we aren't exactly being the "_Wonder-Couple_" that everyone wants us to be. And to be frank, I don't think either of us are that interested anymore."

"Yeah, okay," I say, still looking through Hoodies. I can literally feel some constriction in my chest loosen.

"So... you're cool with it?" he asks, smiling.

I nod, flipping the tag over on a blue and black sweater.

He goes back to wherever he came from while I finish up and buy Bart's present, plus the Booster Gold hoodie (I think it looks cool).

* * *

_"Great, now I'm Peter Pan." _

* * *

Staring at Bart while he's ten year's older is unnerving. Getting a wrist watch that changes my appearance, is worse. It's the littler things that completely freak me out. Learning that La'gann has a normal, _human fiancé and _she's pretty, that Wally is back and him and Artemis have twins, Cassie has been off the grid for nine years, Dick and Zatanna have three children, Bart and his wife are expecting a baby... everything is just so different.

And I can't get used to it.

I get to live with Bart for the first few months, under the appearance of a seventeen year old guy with bright red hair. green eyes, and obsessed with heavy metal music.

Once the baby is born however, Bart tries to find a replacement home, which proves more difficult than it sounds. Nobody wants an extra mouth to feed, or nobody is stable enough to do it.

Eventually Bart caves and starts looking through some European phonebook and calls someone over there. He's on the phone with them for two hours, trying to convince them and when they finally hang up, he confesses that Cassie is too busy- and really doesn't want to see me- to take me in.

Finally, he get's La'gann and his fiancé to take me- under complete and sworn secrecy.

I didn't realize trying to find a way home was going to take more than a few days.

* * *

_A.N. Questions or concerns? PM or leave a review! _


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N. Hey everybody! :D _

_So for forewarning of this chapter, I just wanted to say that it will be reversed, and it'll be all Jaime and a small snippet of Cassie at the end! _

* * *

_"The night is over, ese." _

* * *

**Heat signature reveals that "Lacey" is coming down the hallway toward home. **

"Uh, _thanks," _I say quietly to Khaji Da, hearing the firm clang of the locks opening.

_Explanation: Lacey J. Teracy, is attempting to come home. She attends college part time and works the other part, and on some days she has to stay at one of them late. The most awesome thing? She's only twentyy-four and still treats me like I'm her son or something. And that concludes the profiling of Lacey. _

She pokes her head in, before fully stepping into the room and sliding out of her trench coat, "just came by to grab my Calc. paper, how's everything going?" she asks, looking through her forgotten pink binder.

"Fine."

She looks at the show I'm watching, which happens to be full of guns and explosions. She shoves the binder into her book-bag, grabs her coat and leaves quickly. I go back to watching TV, only to have the door open less than a minute later, and Lacey pokes her head back in, her dark curls bouncy across her shoulders, "I forgot, they're hosting a Christmas party in the Watchtower tomorrow. You've already been okayed to go, if you want."

"Alright, thanks," I say with a sympathetic smile. She smiles back and shuts the door, and within seconds I can hear the gentle rumble of her relocking the door.

**She treats you as a child. **

"I'm okay with that," I say simply, pausing the TV to pull up my blankets around me. I figure some sleep might be helpful.

**You are a fool for trusting her. **

"Dios Mio, do you not trust anyone? Lacey treats me like a kid because she doesn't _have _any."

**Your body is sleep deprived. Suggestion, go to sleep.**

Nice way to change the subject. I roll over, and pull the blanket tighter.

* * *

_"Totally." _

* * *

"Hey, wake up."

I roll over, causing me to fall off the couch in one fluid motion. I open an eye to see La'gann setting a plate out on the table, piled with several pancakes ladened down with syrup.

It took me about five seconds to realize that they're tiny apartment was freezing cold. Lacey was wearing a dark navy turtleneck and jeans, with the very insulated fur boots, a knit cap and her winter jacket, "heat went out in the middle of the night, they're trying to fix it."

"Great," I said, my teeth chattering. La'gann seemed perfectly comfortable in his pants and t-shirt, but then again, La'gann originally lived in Alantis, at the bottom of the ocean. Hell could freeze over and La'gann would still be comfortable, while Lacey and I froze to death.

**Armoring up, your body is too cold. Temperature is currently 97.5 and dropping. **

I sighed as Khaji Da spread the armor over my body, and while I sighed in relief when heat warmed my body, I couldn't help but feel bad because Lacey wasn't Atlantean or have an alien-tech-portable-heater attatched to her spine; she was human through and through.

"You should probably eat," Lacey said, putting her own plate into the sink. She slips on a pair of gloves.

"Going to work, angelfish?" La'gann asked, kissing her cheek. She ruffled my hair and stepped out the door.

I shovel in the pancakes, "so, since everybody is going to that Christmas party, does that mean Cassie will be there?"

"Maybe," La'gann says thoughtfully.

**Your concern for the Wondergirl clouds rational logic. **

"Thanks for your opinion," I say glumly, while La'gann picks up the dishes from the table.

I get dressed, yank on shoes, and find a coat so I'm ready to go when La'gann is finished washing dishes. Upon entering the living room I see that he's already got a sweatshirt on, and his image inducer is switched on so he no longer is walking through downtown as a fish-guy, but now an actual man.

I go to switch mine on, but La'gann stops me, "no one will notice," he says, and ushers me out the door.

I'm surprised to see that the Zeta tube recognizes me, but then again, Bart probably is pulling some strings. And within seconds, I'm not standing in an abandoned part of Happy Harbor, but in the glossy hallways of the Watchtower.

"Amigo!" Bart says, completely butchering the word with his American dialect. He grabs me into a hug, and begins touring through the rooms. Everything is decorated with huge amounts of tinsel, multi-colored lights, ornaments, trees... I pick out a few familiar slightly familiar faces, Dick Grayson talking to Karen, holding a baby in his arms. Artemis, Zatanna and (I believe) Megan, giggling while two kids with strawberry blonde hair peek out from behind Artemis. Conner walking with Wolf while a green lizard peeks out from between Wolf's ears.

I don't know some others, a girl with wavy blonde hair, someone with waist-length red hair and bright green eyes, a cyborg looking person.

Bart leads me away from the big group of chaos and into a dimly-lit room, and upon turning on a light he reveals a table, which he rolls out a large paper filled with blue-prints, "so, I might be able to re-create the device that brought me into the past, only on a smaller scale so it could be more like a a wrist watch or... I dunno. The point is, it should get you back to 2016... uh, that's the year you went missing, right? Anyways, I'll try to send you as close as possible to the moment you disappeared, but no guarantee."

"Sounds good," I say, my eyes scanning the prints quickly.

"Good," he says, and twists the doorknob, and ushers me back out to the hall.

Re-entering the main room with Bart proved more difficult than not. Everyone seemed to notice that I was back, and everyone- even people I didn't know- wanted to hug me, or touch me or talk to me. And when I finally got back towards the opening for Zeta-ing, where La'gann was talking animatedly to Tim, I was _so _ready to go.

"You mind?" Tim asked, holding out his arms, a drink in one hand, while he stepped forward to hug me. I squirm uncomfortably as he did so.

* * *

_"__We do this to help people, right? ____**Save** lives. So even if we die saving one - it's **worth** the trade-off. Right?"_

* * *

_Empty. _I look around the large apartment, feeling a pang go through my body. We've spent years here, the thought of leaving suddenly seems grotesque.

Everything has been scrubbed and vaccumed and rinsed, and it's weird to see our once colorfully messy house now so... _spotless. _

Mom talks to the movers who are taking the boxes we've packed over to Italy ahead of time, before she finally makes me leave the house. She locks it, and takes the key back to the landlord. We won't need it from this point forward.

"Cass," she calls, loading the suitcases into the car.

_No turning back, _I think, climbing into the passenger side.

* * *

_A.N. Obviously I'm not going to send Jaime right back to thd moment that he left, it'll probably be a lot more dramatic than that. _

_Being the idiot I am I got three-fourths through the chapter when I remembered that Jaime could have moved in with Asami and Tye... _


	6. Chapter 6

_"Bart... don't be upset." _

* * *

I shifted the fluffed pillow out from underneath my head. Bright light shone in from between the cracks of the dusty blinds, long forgotten to be cleaned. I stretched my back, slowly clambering out of the blankets.

"Welcome, to the city of Verona," I say softly, drawing up the blinds. I wonder if Juliet ever felt this trapped. Then again, I guess it doesn't matter, Juliet hardly had a love story.

I dress in jeans and a T-shirt, and take care to slip on Jaime's forgotten hoodie. Mom already has breakfast out, "we are meeting with the Pinasco family. Doctor Angelo is interested in endorsing me and the other archeologists. They have a boy about your age, please be polite, and for _gods sake _take that ratty sweater off."

I take a bite of oatmeal, ignoring her, "sounds like fun, I'll just stay here-"

"No your not young lady, we are going together, now go get dressed properly," she says, folding her arms across her chest.

Nothing like trying to make up for lost mother-daughter time.

* * *

"So, this goes here?" Jaime asked, screwing in a small bolt while Bart dealt with a refusing-to-sleep baby Iris.

"Seems about right," Bart said, while Iris screamed loudly, "child, what the hell do you want? You _cannot _be hungry."

Jaime sifted through the numerous wires on the desk, trying to tune out Bart, "that's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Fine," Bart said, handing over the writhing baby, "_you _feed her, and I'll fix up device."

"So kind," Jaime said, bouncing Iris on his knee until she vomited on his hoodie.

* * *

_"Just... stop being annoying." _

* * *

"And the council would like to thank Ms. Sandsmark-"

Ugh, this could not get any more boring. I tapped a pencil against the glossy surface of the table where Mom and I were sitting. She had a hand on my elbow as if she was scared I'd make some impulsive move. To the left of me is Mr. Pinasco's son, a tall teen with bright red curly hair. Not to mention he's shaped like a barbarian.

"Does the council wish to adjourn?"

I look up, and Mom's bright green fingernails shift so they're pratically ripping apart my skin, _yes, yes, please say yes!_

"I believe we still need to discuss-"

_So much for adjourning, _I think solemnly. Mom's fingernails slowly loosen.

* * *

"You are the worst baby ever," Jaime mumbled, glaring at a now-asleep baby Iris. Bart handed him a too big black sweatshirt, compensating him, since his daughter had pretty much destroyed the exterior of his old one.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I've mostly finished it. This is way harder then I remember," Bart said, scratching his chin, "then again..."

He pulled at a couple of wires, snapping them clean off the device, and put a cover on the top of it, screwing it together, "ta-da!"

"You never grew up," Jaime said taking the small device.

**This contraption is incomplete and unstable, are you certain you wish to proceed Jaime Reyes? **

"Do I really have a choice?" He mumbled, latching it onto his wrist.

**You always have a choice in these matters.**

Jaime turned a knob on the side of the wrist-watch-thing. "See you in ten years buddy," Bart said, touching his flattened right hand to his forehead.

He returned the gesture.

* * *

_"Not going to lie, I always imagined you dying first." _

* * *

_Kid Flash to Wondergirl, do you read me? _

I claw uselessly at my left ear while the council adjourns finally. I excuse myself and race out to the hallway. "I _read you, what do you need?" _I whisper, pressing down on the comm. link.

"Something here you need to see, her-mon-a."

_"Hermana," I _correct, "and I'm kinda in Italy will my mom."

"Setting up Zeta tube now," there was a pause, "all clear."

_Worst friend ever, _I think, and open the door to get out of the building. "_Two blocks off, 23rd street. Behind an abandoned salon." _

"Thanks," I mumble, jogging the blocks to the place he was referring to. An old broken bell tinkled slightly when I forcefully opened the door. The back door was ajar slightly.

_Zeta tube online, recognized, Wondergirl, B-2-1."_

* * *

"Hermano? Dude, how the hell did you get here? Are you okay? Can I have your sweater?"

Jaime blinked, looking at the considerably shorter and less tired Bart. He hugged him happily, "sure it's your sweater anyways," he said tugging it off and slinging it around the speedster.

"I- what?"

"Nevermind. Where's Cassie? And La'gann? And Wally?"

Bart looked at him like he was insane, and answered slowly, "Wally is dead, La'gann quit the team to continue studies under Queen Mera, and Cassie went to go visit her mom in Italy."

"No, La'gann- and Wally is alive... I thought- what?" He mumbled. He should have been brought back exactly ten years, though the more he thought about it Wally did still have two more years. But La'gann and Cassie should have been there.

"Wait, Bart, how long have I been gone?"

"One year, eighteen days, five hours, sixteen minutes and nine seconds."

"_Seriously? _Wait, call Cassie, she can't stay in Italy."

"Dude, go lie down you're starting to scare me."

Jaime sighed, and slowly sat down on the couch while Bart hooked up his communication link.

* * *

_"Old habits die hard." _

* * *

Cassie frowned when she walked into the mouth of the Watchtower, wondering where Bart was.

"Cassie!" Bart said, running up to me, and grabbing my wrist, "c'mon."

"Bart, what's going on?!"

Bart sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair, "honestly? I have no idea."

I begrudgingly follow him through the hallways of the watchtower before he opens one of the last doors; to a broom closet.

And there was Jaime sitting on an overturned bucket, continuously shuffling a deck of cards in his left hand.

"Jaime," she breathed.

* * *

_A.N. So, there was supposed to be more of this, but I got lazy, so... _

_Also, for clarification in one of the chapters when Bart calls Cassie and tells Jaime that Cassie doesn't want to see him... yeah, that was supposed to be another plot bunny, but alas school drains my creativity. Anyways, it wasn't actually Cassie that Bart talked to but rather her abusive/manipulative (however you wanna look at it) boyfriend. Which would also be the boy that Cassie's mom is going on about in the beginning. _

_-Threaded Needles_


End file.
